Knocking on Her Window
by RosemarieCraig
Summary: 15 year old House knocks on Cuddy's window, nursing a broken nose and asking for her help. Abuse Warning
1. Chapter 1

Lisa changed quickly into her stripy pyjamas. It was Greg's father's first day back from Pakistan, and she was half expecting the gangly teenager to turn up. He almost always did, when his father came home. She loosened her hair from its ponytail and ran her brush through it. Sure enough, just before she turned off her light, she heard a tap at her window. The boy outside was wrapped in the darkness, standing in the shadow of the house. She flung open the window, and Greg clambered easily up the drainpipe and collapsed onto her bedroom floor. He had come so many times in his old leather jacket and dark blue jeans, his white t-shirt gleaming and contrasting with his black leathers. Lisa took in his brown curly hair and bright blue eyes with wonder and affection before she saw the blood dripping from his nose.

"Hey Lise" Greg muttered through a mouthful of blood.

"Greg, what the hell! Here, take a tissue" Lisa handed him a handful of tissues and went downstairs for a bag of peas. When she came back, Greg was sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Why stay home when I can sleep here?" he said, trying hard to make light of the situation.

"Greg- you have to tell someone, get some help"

"I don't need help. If I stayed at home, I wouldn't be able to bother you"

"You can always bother me" she whispered, handing him the bag of peas. He leaned his head back against the wall and balanced the bag on his nose, holding a tissue to stem the flow of blood.

"I didn't even do anything wrong" he whispered, dejectedly

"You never do"

"No. Sometimes I'm late for curfew, or my GPA drops, or I do something to upset him. This was just because he was angry at the army. They sent him home before his shift was up"

"Why?"

"He hit a soldier. On our side"

"Surely they'll take notice now?"

"Why should they? I'm just a kid, Lise, they don't care"

"I care" she whispered.

"I know" he whispered back. Lisa sat down next to him and pulled the blanket around them both. She put her head on his chest and curled up.

"Did he just hit you once? Or is there any more?"

"I'll have some bruises in the morning, on my face" he said quietly. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Lisa, can you feel my hand? It's numb" he said, matter of fact. Lisa took his hand in hers and felt the heat radiating from it. She sat up to look at it better. She could see the fractures on his fingers, the blood blisters on the back of his hand and the large burn on his palm.

"Holy shit" she whispered, feeling like crying. His beautiful hand was mutilated beyond what she had ever seen. Greg's father always liked to aim at his face, legs and hands, the things he valued most. His good looks, his sport and his piano player's fingers.

"Is it bad?" he whimpered as she ran her fingers around the burn.

"What did he do to you?"

"He stamped on it, and held it against the stove. It really hurts, Lise" he sounded so vulnerable, so hurt that Lisa put her arms around him, and she felt him shudder with suppressed tears.

"Greg, you can't go back. You have to tell someone"

"I told you"

"I'm not enough. I can't help you, not really"

"You're helping me now"

"But I can't prevent it"

"No one can"

"The government, they can have you taken away"

"Lisa, my dad is really high up in the military, you know that. They wouldn't listen to me"

"But they might, and then you could go live somewhere else. Be safe"

"Away from my mom. Away from Wilson. Away from you"

"I'd come visit, we all would"

"I'd rather stay" Greg said, and Lisa sighed. He wanted them more than he wanted safety. It wasn't fair. He was just a kid, really. Just fifteen.

"But-"

"No. Stop. I just want to sleep"

"Okay. Lie down. I'll give you a back rub, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Lise" he said, relaxing. Lisa pulled up his t-shirt and sighed at the pattern of bruises, cuts, scars and burns across his back. She rubbed gently, kneading her knuckles into the unbruised parts of his flesh. He started breathing deeper as he dozed off, and after about fifteen minutes, she lay down beside him and gathered him up in her arms. They slept, and didn't worry. Until he awoke screaming in nightmares like he did every time he came knocking at her window.


	2. Chapter 2

The teenagers woke up to the chirping of birds. Lisa automatically made to get out of bed to start yoga, but got stuck on Greg.

"Oy, get off" he grumbled into the pillow. Lisa smiled and ran her hand through his hair. Now it was morning, she had time to reflect. Greg was a year or so younger than her, but in her grade at school. He was bright, so bright he had a statement of educational needs. Lisa had always admired him, ever since she was eight, he was six, and he'd pulled down Tommy Owen's pants because he took her lunch money. They'd been friends ever since. But James Wilson had always been his best friend. James was the opposite of Greg. He was calm and comforting, and always took his duty as mother hen very seriously. Lisa and Greg lived next door to each other. Their houses were so close, she sometimes heard the yelling. She sometimes heard the horrible things his dad said. She sometimes heard him crying.

"Come on sleepy head. Up we get" she whispered into his ear, leaning over him so that her hair tickled his face.

"I'm up, I'm up. Is it a school day?"

"Yeah, Greg, it's Tuesday. Did you hit your head last night?" Lisa sounded worried, and Greg began to sit up. He rubbed his neck and felt around his face. No lasting damage, he noted. His gaze fell on his hand, and he felt accidental tears welling at the sight of it.

"I- I um... I don't know. I think I fell down the stairs before my hand..." he faltered. Lisa sat beside him on the edge of the bed, as they had done the night before, both leaning against the wall.

"Oh Greg... What am I supposed to do with you?"

"For the minute, I want a shower" Greg said, avoiding the conversation she obviously wanted. He didn't want to discuss telling anyone else about his family. He shut his eyes at the thought of how humiliating it would be, if people knew how weak and stupid he really was behind the perfectly constructed mask.

"Greg... your hand looks really painful" it was a grotesque understatement. His hand was mangled. At least three fingers were broken, his palm burned and a bruise the shape and size of a boot was black on the back.

"I guess"

"What the hell happened?" she had more time to talk to him now. She'd heard him get yelled at majorly the night before.

"I told you. He stamped on it. He held it against the stove" he sounded broken, like the wanted to stop the conversation and just drop it. But she wouldn't let him.

"Greg, I think you might need to see a doctor. If your fingers don't set properly, you won't be able to play" she said, knowing how to get him to comply. If there was any danger of him losing something he loved, he would object, but eventually get whatever was necessary to keep it. He loved his piano. In fact he loved all music. He was beyond talented. He loved sports, and he loved his mind. In fact, Lisa considered herself to be among the very lucky few _people_ Greg House loved.

"Fine. Skip school with me?"

"Sounds like fun" she smiled, relieved that he would get help. They both stood up, and Greg went into Lisa's en-suite bathroom to shower. Once he had locked himself in, he allowed himself to show the pain on his face. Physical pain, sure, but emotional too. No one cared about him, not really. His own father detested him beyond understanding. His mother didn't stop it. His best friend, Wilson, was oblivious. Well, Greg had lied to him, so it wasn't really his fault. No, the only person who cared was Lisa. He had only told her the truth because she had heard him screaming through the walls when he was nine. That was the first time his father had used fire against him, burning a perfect circle with his cigarette in his son's arm. It had hurt so badly, but he couldn't escape. His father was strong from his military training, and Greg had been just a child. It wasn't fair.

They dressed and left the house, Greg through the window and Lisa through the front door via some toast and a kiss from her mother. Her mother didn't approve of Greg, and had banned him from coming to the house. Not that that stopped them. They met out on the road, and walked in the opposite direction to the small stream of school kids. They walked in total silence towards the hospital. Just as they were turning in, Greg grabbed her arm,

"I didn't think this is a good idea" he said, fear clouding his eyes

"It's okay, we don't need to tell them how it happened"

"You swear you won't even give a hint to any doctor in that building?"

"If that's what you want"

"It is"

"Then I won't. But I disagree, I think you should tell someone. It can't bee good for you to bottle all of it up like this"

"I let go with you, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do. But I'm not an adult, Greg. I can't do anything"

"Neither can they"

"They might"

"Don't tell, Lisa. It's not your secret to spread"

"I promise"

"Okay" they walked though the double doors and Greg went to tell the receptionist. She gasped audibly at his injury.

"I'll get you seen to straight away, before that gets infected!" she said in a high pitched voice.

"Thank you so much" Greg said sweetly. They sat down on some uncomfortable blue chairs and waited. After five minutes of silence in the bustling ER room, Greg began to talk. "Dad wants me to join the army, when I'm 17"

"What? No way can you join!"

"I don't want to. I couldn't be a soldier. I'm not like him, I want to spend my life saving people, not killing them!"

"He can't force you to join. It's illegal"

"Since when does he care about sticking to the law? Besides, he can pull any string he wants to make sure I get in"

"That's not fair, Greg"

"Nothing's fair" he said knowingly.

"Gregory House" came over the speakers. Greg stood up and Lisa followed him into the exam room.

"What happened?" asked the doctor bad temperedly

"I was playing a stupid game with some matches, and one of my friends stepped on my hand" he said with the ease of someone used to lying.

"You'll need a splint and someburn cream. Let me got you thatHeathe doctor said, grabbing a splint from a draw. "Apply this cream twice a day until the burn scars over. Might sting a bit"

"Cheers" they left the exam room and seconds later the next patient was in there.

"You didn't tell him"

"Of course I didn't. What do you think he'd do to me if I told? He did this for nothing" Lisa sighed. It really wasn't fair.


End file.
